


i wanna flush your pipes, baby

by Imestelomel



Series: Jaytim Week: VDE [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Breaking and Entering, Home Improvement, Humor, JayTim Week, Jaytim Week: VDE, M/M, Only the title is dirty I swear, Romance, Secret Admirer, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9796637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imestelomel/pseuds/Imestelomel
Summary: “So fix the damn thing.”“The window or the door?” Jason flopped down into a chair."Either? Both?""I’m a firm believer of ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’.”Tim paused to look up from where he was threading the needle for stitches, an eyebrow arched in exasperation. “Jason. They’re literally broken.”(In which someone keeps fixing random things in Jason's apartment, and Jason's oddly okay with it.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Jaytim Week: VDE  
> Day 3: Secret Admirers  
> (This work will be updated as soon as it's betaed. Apologies for the crappy grammar and awkward moments.)

Jason tumbled in through his side window, groaning as his sliced-up shoulder came in contact with the floor. He let himself spread eagle, ignoring the sounds of Red Robin clambering in after him. A beat later the other man stared down at him

“I did suggest we go in through the door for once,” he admonished, frowning down at Jason. “And why doesn’t your window open all the way?”

Jason groaned, “Two reasons,” he grumbled, counting them off on his fingers, “One, none of us use front doors and you know it. Two, the front door sticks so much that I have to ram it with my shoulder, and I’d rather not do that for obvious reasons.”

Tim sighed as he reached down to help Jason off of the floor. “So fix the damn thing.” 

“The window or the door?” Jason flopped down into a chair at the kitchen table, and watched as Tim tiptoed to reach into the cabinet over the sink and pluck the first aid kit down.

“Either? Both?”

Jason shrugged. “I have neither the time nor the desire to. I’m a firm believer of ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’.”

Tim paused to look up from where he was threading the needle for stitches, an eyebrow arched in exasperation. “Jason. They’re literally broken.”

“Screw you, Replacement, I do what I want.” He winced as Tim began prodding his knife wound. “And besides, there’s so many broken things in this place that it’d take me weeks to fix them all. I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly thrilled at the idea of home renovation”

Tim merely hummed in a way that clearly said  _ humor the idiot so he’ll stay still long enough for his stitches.  _ Jason pouted.

* * *

 

A few days later, Jason nearly toppled off the side of the fire escape when he went to strongarm the window open and found that the expected resistance had mysteriously vanished during his patrol.

He tested the window, frowning at the smooth and silent motion.

“Huh,” he mumbled to himself, rubbing his lower back where the railing of the fire escape had dug in, “It must’ve shifted with the warmer weather.”

* * *

 

In fact, a few things had been miraculously fixed overnight.

At first Jason was inclined to ignore when the faucet stopped leaking in the bathroom, because plumbing was a fickle thing. Then the hot water started to last longer during his showers, and, well, that was a little odd. His barely-there hot water had been a pain in the ass since he’d moved in.

One night, the flickering light that hung over the kitchen table suddenly glowed bright and constant. (Jason may or may not have praised God aloud for that one - that light had given him more migraines than he could count and made him feel like he was living in a B-list horror film.)

The same thing happened with the torn weather stripping on the windows, the light switch in his bedroom that he usually had to toggle three times to get it to work, and even the silverware drawer by the refrigerator that had fallen off of its rail and refused to stay straight for longer than fifteen seconds.

But, even though the little voice in his head got rather insistent that all of the random home improvements couldn’t  _ possibly _ be coincidence, Jason couldn’t really bring himself to care. He  _ hated _ playing handyman, and if he didn’t have to spend the time on repairs himself then all the better. He wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

* * *

 

The final straw came when Roy asked Jason to unlock the door for him because he was coming over (Roy had a very firm opinion on the usage of doors as the proper way to enter a residence).

As Jason sat thumbing through a book, Roy came crashing (literally) through the front door, flying through the air and landing on the glass coffee table, which promptly shattered into a million itty bitty pieces.

“What the  _ fuck _ , Harper?!” Jason growled, jumping up to kick him through the metal frame of the table, the only thing still intact. 

“Don’t look at me!” Roy yelled, gingerly rolling himself up. “You’re the one that didn’t warn me you’d fixed the front door!”

Jason frowned. “I didn’t fix the front door.”

Roy glared at him, “Well obviously you did.” He walked up to the door, opening and shutting it to demonstrate. “See? I was expecting to have to manhandle it like usual! This thing’s hanging straight in the frame again. It’s even all oiled up!”

Jason hummed. “I guess it was fixed.” He scowled again. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t owe me a coffee table.”

The redhead scoffed. “How the hell do you not know what’s been fixed in your own apartment?”

Jason disappeared into the side closet for a dustpan and broom before shrugging. “I don’t know. A lot of things have been magically fixed lately. It’s usually happened overnight, but I haven’t really paid close attention.”

Roy’s eyebrows raised. “You’re expecting me to believe you have a handyman fairy?”

“I wouldn’t call them a fairy. More like Cinderella’s godmother.”

“She was a  _ fairy _ godmother. And do you even know who’s been doing it?”

“Nope.”

Roy eased down onto the sofa, wincing as he began to pluck out shards of glass from his back. “How does that not have you freaked out? Someone is literally coming into your apartment and changing things around and that doesn’t seem the least bit  _ concerning to you _ ?”

Jason tossed a pile of glass into the trash can. “Hey, I just hate fixing shit, okay?”

Roy laughed. “I’m just saying you should at least figure out who’s breaking in. Hell, let them keep fixing stuff after you find out if you want.”

“Maybe.” Jason walked behind Roy and slapped him on the back of his head. “Now get the fuck off my sofa, you’re bleeding all over the place.”

* * *

 

Jason was peering through binoculars into his apartment window from a few buildings over yet again. It was his third night waiting for his ‘handyman fairy’. He’d gone out to patrol across the city an hour earlier, and made sure he was spotted before doubling back to stake out his  _ own _ apartment. 

(Sometimes he wondered how his life got so goddamn weird.)

A blur of motion inside his apartment caught his attention, and he squinted, trying to make out who it was in the dark, before the lights in his apartment switched on.

Holy shit.

He stared as the person inside removed their gauntlets and dropped what look like a toolbag on the floor by the kitchen sink.They rummaged around for a few tools, before opening the cabinet under the sink and emptying it out to make room for their shoulders and head to slip neatly inside.

Jason laughed to himself, before swinging down to enter his apartment building from the front entrance.  _ Thank you for the newly oiled door, Handyman Fairy _ . He slipped in, and silently tiptoed to the kitchen, where he leaned up against the refrigerator to stare down under the sink.

“What you up to, Replacement?”

A loud thud and a curse rang out from the depths of the cabinet, before Tim was scrambling out to look up at Jason. He swallowed, visibly surprised to have been caught. “Uh, hey, Hood.” He cleared his throat. “I was just checking under your sink for, uh, surveillance equipment. Nightwing found a mic under his sink, and B wanted me to double check that no one else-”

Jason snorted, before removing his hood. “Cut the crap, Timbers. I know you've been fixing all my shit.”

Tim’s expression stayed neutral. “You couldn’t prove that.”

“I don’t want to  _ prove _ it. I just want to know why you’ve been sneaking around.” Jason pulled out a chair and propped up his feet. “Seriously, don’t worry, I’m not mad. I’m just curious as to why.

Tim sighed, the tension releasing a bit from his shoulders. “You obviously weren't gonna fix anything, and that's just not okay. I mean, summer is coming up, Jason! That weather stripping was horribly inefficient.”

Jason threw his head back and laughed. “You're entirely too serious about this.”

Tim frowned. “Well excuse me for wanting to do something for you,” Tim grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back against the cabinets.

Jason’s expression softened. “Hey, I appreciate it all, really. This is all just something I'd expect you to do for Grayson or something, not me.”

A hint of pink tinged Tim’s cheekbones, and something in Jason’s head just  _ clicked _ . “Timbers, has this all been some weird stalker way of showing you care about me?”

“I’m not a stalker, Jason,” Tim gritted out through clenched teeth, but the pink in his cheeks darkened to a prominent red, showing Jason exactly how on the mark he was.

“I know, I know. I’m just teasing you, babe.” Tim was now blushing all the way to his ears. “Tell you what. I'm gonna go back out and patrol, because staking out this kitchen has seriously cut into that, and when I get back I’ll cook something up for us before you head home,” he said, hopping up from his chair and bending down to kiss Tim’s temple before heading towards the window.

Tim reached up to feel where Jason’s lips had been before scrambling to stand up. “So, wait, you're...okay with this? Me wanting to take care of things for you?”

Jason opened the window (which still rose smoothly and silently) before turning back to grin at Tim and blow him a kiss. “What can I say? I’m a romantic at heart.”

He just caught the wide smile that spread over Tim’s face before he pulled his hood on and swung away.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so it's not a very straightforward 'secret admirer' kind of thing, but I couldn't get the idea of Tim 'taking care' of Jason through random acts of home improvement out of my head. Hope it worked out okay!  
> And yes, the title is a horrible pick up line. I couldn't think of anything better...
> 
> Remember to take a break to stretch, walk around, get some water and roll out those tense shoulders! Selfcare is important for everyone!


End file.
